Entries tagged with tech

1. Teach 40+ kids about theatre for six hours a day.2. Finish one housesitting gig; start the next one 48 hours later.3. Pick up an Assistant Stage Managing job with the opera purely on the basis that you have a lot of theatrical experience, in spite of never SMing for an opera before.4. Resign yourself to not weaning yourself off caffeine any time soon.5. PROFIT

So, the dealio -- my computer is in the shop for 2-4 weeks. Dad has graciously allowed me to use his in the mornings and evenings, when I'm at home, and the parentals are talking about buying me one of those mini-laptops if I don't get my own computer back before we head for the Lower 48 at the end of the summer. (Any suggestions from the f-list on that kind of thing?)

Obviously that's going to limit my availability online for a while, but I've been scarce for long enough that I doubt most folks will be bothered; I don't have any time-sensitive plans with anyone, I think.

In health news, I still feel rather feverish, but overall I feel better today than I did yesterday or Sunday.

In show news -- the light cues are all programmed*, and I'm working on music cues. That's good. One of my actors was diagnosed with flu -- possibly H1N1 -- and has been quarantined for seven days. That's bad. I have asked a kid I worked with last year to take a look at the part and see if he can handle jumping in at the last minute, and he seemed reasonably interested. That's good (I like him a lot, and he memorizes in a snap). My Petruchio this morning was awful. That's bad. My Petruchio this afternoon, after I gave everyone an hour to run lines together (and put him together with the much more prepared Kate, who is concerned about sharing scenes with him where he doesn't know his lines) was MILES better. That's utterly phenomenal. He was nearly word-perfect on speeches he hadn't been getting for a week. While I would have liked to see it a week ago, I'm happy to see it now. Better once than never, for never too late.

And that's all the news that's fit to print from up here. I feel kinda crappy, so I'm gonna start burning CDs and then go to bed early again, I think.

*The technical director for this company and I work really well together. It's awesome. He keeps raving about how low-maintenance I am, and I should really be raving more about how easy he makes everything. "Can I have [x]?" "Sure!" Love it.

Oh hells no, cold/flu thing that has been making the rounds of the summer camp. You've taken down two of my cast members and I saw you gunning for a third, not to mention all the folks in Guys & Dolls and the others shows. You are NOT getting your claws in me. *guzzles tea and Sudafed and Tylenol and goes to bed early*

Sorry I didn't get to see you more today, ghost_light! I'm sure we'll run into each other on a break over the next week.

Rehearsing said scene, in which my boyfriend makes a move on me before I reveal that I'm pregnant, out on the quad, in spite of the inherent OH GOD AWKWARD of it.

The pretty girl director getting fed up with the boy's inability to make a move on me and doing it herself to show him what to do.

"I don't know why you find this so difficult! She's hot!"

Being told by a cute actor afterwards that "The moment when you held his hand on your stomach and were looking up at him -- I think that was the strongest moment of the scene."

Watching three dozen actors in unitards, howling obscenities and battle-cries, thoroughly trounce the School of Art at dodgeball.

Being told one's sound design is great.

A friendly suggestion to the liberals of America: for Pete's sake, either stop talking about Sarah Palin, or start talking about Joe Biden. John McCain is running for president, and yes, I know, Palin would be "a heartbeat away from the presidency," and that is certainly an issue, but she isn't the primary candidate here. Moreover, every joke at her expense is playing right into the GOP's hands, and keeping attention focused on her rather than McCain -- or for that matter, Obama and Biden. Hey, remember them?

[Poll #1230324]And second, a meme:Comment with a fandom and I'll tell you my...

One True Pairing Ship:Canon Ship:"If this happens I'll stab my eyes out with a spork" Ship:"You are one sick bastard" Ship:"I dabble a little" Ship:"It's like a car crash" Ship:"Tickles my fancy but not sold just yet" Ship:"Makes no canon sense but why the Hell not" Ship:"Everyone else loves it but I just don't feel it" Ship:"When all is said and done" Ship:

Despite BFF's urgings to "Be irresponsible for once in your life!" -- something that I'm actually working on a little, because responsibility is great but boringness is not -- I did not go see The Dark Knight premiere. Instead I went to bed at 11:30 and am damn glad I did so. I'll likely still be a cranky bitch to my casts, but at least I'll be a slightly better rested cranky bitch.

The Good: Finally feeling excited for the plays. Twelfth Night will be ridiculous. The Poet and the Rent will be AWESOME.

Also, dancing like an idiot onstage. Also also, biking up West Hill. \o/

The Sad: A guy I only recently reconnected with leaves for LA tomorrow; today may have been the last time I'll see him, at least for a long time. I was going to write him a card, because I realized recently that for someone I haven't had a lot of constant contact with, Caleb has really deeply impacted my life -- and then, doofus that I am, I didn't. I'll have to e-mail him for his mailing address so I can write him a letter.

The Awesome: I was asked, somewhat out of the blue, to read some Alan Ginsberg poetry at a slam tonight -- so the_croupier, I'll be around, but later than anticipated. But I should be around all evening tomorrow!

The WTF: When going down West Hill this morning and coming up on the lagoon, I heard a lot of splashing and saw a gull taking off at high speed. "Must be a bunch of birds!" I thought as my bike sped on.

"HELLO FRIEND" said the MOOSE WALKING OUT OF THE LAGOON ONTO THE BIKE PATH.

"GOODBYE MOOSE" I said over my shoulder as I sped up. "THERE IS A MOOSE BACK THERE, LADY COMING THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION."

I love my state. Jesus Christ. (And I am very glad that it was a moose and not a bear.)

So the show went . . . well, it went. varadia and phoenixchilde are probably in a better position to say how it was (because they came to see it! <3); I was up in the booth with the light cues I had written into my script five minutes beforehand doing my best impression of Maria at 7:00.

Yeah. Lines were dropped all over the place; occasionally they were put in where'd they hadn't been for days before; props were used for the first time ever -- oh. And the witches were green. Fucking green. It was like Wicked meets Shakespeare.

But it all came together. The fights looked good, and there were some really nice moments. Fucking Magic, man. And most importantly, it's done now.

Oh, after the show, Rico -- the Playground coordinator -- went "You're a dramaturg? You should be a stage manager!" That was kinda cool. And the cast all thanked me profusely for all my hard work.

Yeah, I'm definitely in this for the adoration.

And then I got to hang out with Lynne and Pho! And there were waffle fries, and coffee and chai, and much discussion of who's the meanest to their pups.

I'm exhausted -- and bruised -- from hauling platforms and dividers and running around the building finding extension cords for the band, and I was gonna go sleep at 8:30, but there are people in the room, so I can't. :(

I continue to create a really really weird impression in my roommate and her friends. They walked in on me making foot-long daggers out of cardboard and duct tape, while the Winchester boys screamed dramatically in the background.

Yyyyyeah.

On the other hand, [Adiva] came by and went "MORE STUFF OUT OF CARDBOARD AND DUCT TAPE :DDD," because we made a tricorner hat for Talk Like A Pirate Day. So I gave her the really terrible six-inch-long dagger I made first off. She was thrilled.

At least no one caught me in the bathroom experimenting with the best way to make stage blood and covering my face and hands with it to test (red food coloring and clear laundry detergent, it turns out, stains much less than food coloring and corn syrup).

Home Depot was a bust -- the only burlap they had was a huge roll for $10. If this were ATY, I would buy it with hardly a thought, knowing I could give the excess to them and have it around in the future. As is? Screw that. The very nice guy helping me suggested I go to Michael's.

And then I nearly got lost in Highland, by myself, because I couldn't find a bus stop and it was only barest chance I got to an intersection just as a 71C arrived, and I had no idea where it was going once I got on. I got off the moment I saw we were at Morewood Ave., but then I didn't know which direction home was, so I had to ask a lady walking by.

Anyway, clearly I'm back now. I am starving and frustrated, so I'm going to go eat, make daggers while watching SPN, and plan to find and visit Michael's tomorrow -- because honestly? We could do the show with the props we have right now, as soon as we have daggers. I have Clever Creative Artistic solutions if we get neither sack nor tablecloth, and if the director doesn't like it -- well, I can't say "fuck him," because I'm dramaturging his show next year, and I would like to have a good relationship with him. But fuck him. If he'd gotten his props list in on time, he'd have everything already.

How on earth does an actor make it to twenty years old without ever having learned to stage fall?

I mean. I'm pretty sure this isn't the black belt talking -- karate has helped me with a number of stage combat moves, and vice versa -- but I learned how to fall backward and sideways looooong before I started karate, and I was in half a dozen shows where it was useful information before I turned 18. So how do actors get to CMU School of Drama, for goodness' sake, get to their sophomore or junior year, and still not know how to fall without endangering their joints? This is basic stuff, people! Isn't it?

I mean, I can forgive -- sort of -- the sword choreography. Stage fighting with a sword is complicated, and I sure as hell couldn't choreograph for it; I've had just enough training to think I could do a decent-looking job in a fight, but. Anyway. Swords require training. Learning to fall requires half an hour, and it's vital for everything from getting punched in the nose to being drunk! How do you not learn it?!

Sorry. I'm having an entire tech week's worth of OMG DO SHIT NOW GET IT DONE GET IT DONE crammed into about forty-eight hours, plus I have a homework due in a few hours that I don't have any information for, and right now I need to go find detergent and a burlap sack and those fucking daggers. Fuck, I think I'm just gonna make daggers out of duct tape and cardboard tonight.

ETA: What's that you say, props master? The props lists were due Saturday? And I have no chance of getting to the warehouse to search for props?

What's that you say, director? You knew that?

Well FUCK YOU TOO. *head in hands*

I think so, Brain, but where are we going to find a full length tablecloth and a burlap sack at this time of afternoon?

So I'm rewatching s1 of Slings & Arrows. First off, may I say I still love Maria a ton. May I also say that the line postmodern pseudo-Brechtian leather-clad schoolboy buggery design is AMAZING.

And may I also say that I never noticed until now that Holly and Richard have the exact dialogue MacB and Lady M have. "Are you a man, Richard? Or are you a little puppy-dog that does tricks for cookie treats?" "Prithee, peace! I dare do all that may become a man. Who dares do more is none."

OH SHOW. <3333

'kay, coffee and then rehearsal, and sometime today I have to figure out what the hell to do about the daggers. And torches. Crap.

It is ridiculously windy outside and I love it. It's also WARM. Like legitimately warm. I also love that.

And the wind was so loud that it was providing some very nice ambient noise for Macbeth rehearsal -- especially during the "To-morrow and to-morrow" speech. It was a little creepy the way the wind died out completely just as MacB finished, though, I have to say.

Also, allow me to roll my eyes at the director, who never ordered props from the Playground organizers. Thanks. Thanks tons. If I don't find you daggers, it's your own damn fault, buddy.

I am supposed to be watching Titus right now, but I have class in an hour, so. I'll have to track it down some other time.

I worked out this morning and felt like crap because I made the mistake of thinking that I could totally do 30 minutes of elliptical without any food on board, but hey -- I worked out. \o/

Oh, I never mentioned -- so in Pirates class yesterday, we finished this ridiculous, awesomely cheesy National Geographic ripoff of PotC called Blackbeard, starring, of all people, James Purefoy. And THEN, immediately afterwards, in World History, we discussed how Peter Linebaugh and Marcus Rediker might write a historically accurate version of PotC. (I said Jack would have been a privateer, there would've been a subplot involving the slave trade, and the East India Trading Co. would still have been the major villain -- so not a lot would change, really. Oh, except Will would've been a dispossessed sailor press-ganged into service, rather than a blacksmith. The class as a whole agreed that Pintel and Ragetti and Murtogg and Mullroy would've gotten more credit, and that the crews would be more "motley" and racially balanced.)

And then we talked about the awkward racial politics of the movies. I really really wanted to get to talking about gender politics, which the prof had up on the board, but he skimmed over them -- so I was forced to go up to him afterwards and be like "We should've talked about the fact that Jack Sparrow is racially, gender-ly, and class-ily ambiguous!" He granted as to how that was true, but that Jack then served as a medium for getting the white upper class gender-static (although I would argue Elizabeth is hardly gender-static) heroes their capitalist individualistic freedom.

Sometimes Rouse redeems himself from the stain of writing absolutely horrible paper prompts.

Anyway, I've been listening to my pirate playlist a lot since then. :D?

I am totally throwing Malcolm into mixed_muses. Who can't love a paranoid, 20-something heir to the medieval Scottish throne?

I need a PB, though.

... Uh, yeah, that's about all of substance I have to say. Computing got back to me and said "Thanks for promising to be so conscientious of your bandwidth limits! But we're not restoring your wireless access. Sorry." So Dad is sending me the longest Ethernet cable he has, and until that gets here I'll be relying on the computer clusters. *dry* Whoo.

... Huh! I seem to have become the stage manager for a production of Macbeth going up next week. First rehearsal is tonight at 10.

Go me!

ETA: Also on the subject of Macbeth, because I've been discussing it in two classes and am currently writing a paper on it -- I keep making notes that amount to quotes from Supernatural. We've talked at some length in both classes about the Malleus Maleificarum and James I's Daemonologie; and on one page of notes, next to a discussion of the witches as the Devil's workers, I have What, can the Devil speak true? next to "Do demons ever tell the truth?" "Yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with you."

So where is my SPN/Macbeth fic, huh? C'mon, guys!

(Okay, not so secretly, I'm just obsessed with the idea of SPN and theater, and Shakespeare in particular. But I was having similar thoughts when I saw The Piano Lesson and watched Avery flinging holy water on the piano, calling for God to cast out Sutter's ghost. Not to mention the end, when -- well, if you've seen the play or the movie, you know what I mean; if you haven't, I can't possibly describe it. Go get the play and read it. I want you to help me, Mama Ola.

ANYWAY. Yes. Theatre and SPN, two great tastes that go great together.)

Am in the greenroom, poking at my Oedipus paper, and boooooored. I would do an EP someplace, but I have to work and go back and forth between here and backstage, and I can't guarantee I would actually, like, tag people back.

Last night, as I was collecting the last of the mics from one of the women's dressing rooms, one of the sophomore(?) costume assistants asked me, "Hey, are you a freshman, or what?"

I confirmed that I was, and she said, "We were all wondering, because you're so on top of things, and we're like, 'Is that girl a freshman?' Do you have a lot of experience or something?"

So I beamed a little and told her that I'd been acting for a long time, and done some SMing, so I have that "Don't worry! I'll take care of you!" mentality, and she said, "Well, we need more of that around here."

I left in a much better mood than I'd gone in, and I was in a pretty good mood to start with.

And then I finished everything up and was out of the theater by 11:15.

So we have to make sure the mic transmitters are waterproof, because a lot of them are worn right next to an actor's skin, under several layers of clothing and stage lights, while the actor is dancing.

The best way to waterproof them, apparently?

Stuff each pack in a condom.

And come on. It is physically impossible not to make jokes when they snag on a sharp corner and break.

We go through a box a night. And that just breaks down all my filters for the night. Once your hands and techie blacks are covered in latex dust, what's the point in self-censoring?